Cara Dillon Infant Holy, Infant Lowly
Infant holy, Infant lowly,
For His bed a cattle stall;
Oxen lowing, little knowing
Christ the babe is Lord of all.
Swift are winging, angels singing,
Noels ringing, tidings bringing:
Christ the babe is Lord of all.
Christ the babe is Lord of all.
Flocks are sleeping, shepherds keeping
Vigil till the morning new;
Saw the glory, heard the story,
Tidings of a gospel true.
Thus rejoicing, free from sorrow;
Praises voicing, greet the morrow:
Christ the babe was born for you.
Christ the babe was born for you.
Stars are gleaming, shepherds dreaming,
Oh, the night was dark and chill;
Angels' story, manger glory:
Shepherds heard it on the hill.
Ah, that singing! hear it ringing,
Earthward winging, praises bringing:
Christ the babe was born for you.
Christ the babe was born for you.
Christ the babe was born for you.
